A high opinion of Grissom
by Crazyangel1
Summary: There’s a reasonable explanation for Grissom acting like this. Believe me, there is one.


**Disclaimer:** The CSIs aren't mine although I _am_ planning to kidnap them someday. If you wanna pitch in e-mail me at: and we'll start planning the specifics: where, when, who gets which CSI and at what times of the day. . .anyhoo, all that kidnapping jazz. The only thing I own in this fic are the spelling/grammar mistakes. Lucky me.

**Rating:** PG.

**Summary:** There's a reasonable explanation for Grissom acting like this. Believe me, there IS one.

**Author's Notes:** Don't have much to say here except that my mom thinks this new Grissom-with-beard look is the sexiest thing since Russell Crowe in 'Gladiator'. As for me. . .well, not so crazy about prickly facial hair but I could make an exception for Griss. Maybe wait until he fell asleep, strap him to the bed -in case he resisted- and shave him. I could leave him strapped to the bed for an hour or two, solely for amusement purposes. _My_ amusement.

As always, feedback will make the sun shine brighter and my coffee taste better.

I hope you enjoy.

**A high opinion of Grissom **

By CrazyAngel

Before sashaying into the break room, Grissom fashionably waved at someone at the end of the hallway and shouted, "Goodbye Greg-O!"

Smiling at a private joke, Grissom sauntered in just as Sara swirled around in her chair and Catherine, Warrick and Nick gaped at their unusually jolly supervisor.

Nick looked like he wanted to put the world on 'pause'. "Quick check, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Nick asked.

Catherine and Warrick nodded but said nothing.

"Whasss up people?" A jovial Grissom asked as he plunked himself down on the chair next to Sara's and upon sitting, winked and wrapped an arm around the stunned brunette's seat.

Sara stared at him and then at his arm, comfortably resting on the back of her seat. Sara exchanged a very puzzled, very scared glance with the entire team before speaking. ". . .Grissom?"

He snapped his head towards her. She noted that his right leg hadn't stopped making little jerky jumps on the floor. Grissom was antsy.

"Grissom, are you. . .uh. . .ok?" Catherine asked, leaning on the table to get a better look at him.

Warrick and Nick finally closed their mouths and stared at Grissom intently, waiting for his answer.

Grissom eyes flittered from one person to the other, to the table, to the ceiling, to the cup of coffee Sara was holding and finally back to Catherine.

"Sureyeahofcoursewhynot?"

Demonstrating a state of synchronized puzzlement, the four CSIs blinked slowly and frowned.

Pointing at the bandage on Grissom's forehead Warrick asked, "What happened to your head?"

Grissom shrugged. "My forehead intercepted a flying object."

With a frown still etched in their brows, everyone nodded slowly, almost automatically.

Catherine squinted at him curiously. Grissom squinted back and then laughed loudly as if Catherine had just told the funniest joke in the history of comedy.

At the bizarre sound everyone gasped and recoiled in their seats, almost making the sign of the cross on their chests.

"Oh_my_God. . .," Sara whispered, one hand covering her mouth. "This a sign, the apocalypse is coming. We're all going to die."

Grissom looked at her and smiled. Under the wide-eyed gaze of Sara, he patted her thigh several times and then said (with his hand STILL on her thigh), "Oh, sweetie I'm so happy you brought _that_ up. . .."

Warrick and Nick exchanged a astounded glance. "Sweetie?" they repeated.

"Everything's _so_ clear now, the question about death and-and. . .crossing to the other side of the fence. . ."

"The fence?" Sara and Catherine repeated, confused.

Catherine moved towards Grissom and squinted at him up close for a whole minute. Grissom squinted back, titling his head like a curious German Shepherd. Grissom scratched his beard and smiled at the blond.

"OH MY GOD!" Catherine said, covering her gaping mouth with her hand and taking a step back. "Oh my-OH. MY-OH _GOD_! JESUS CHRIST-OH SWEETMOTHEROF-"

"What?" Warrick asked.

Catherine looked at him more closely and then nodded to herself, as if confirming her own assessment. "He's as high as kite!"

"I love kites," Grissom said in a serious tone, as if he were talking about something deep. "Specially red ones. Red ones are nice. . .You know what other red things are nice?"

Sara shook her head. Grissom told her. "Red underwear, not for me though. . ." He wagged his eyebrows in a 'hint, hint' gesture.

He pinched Sara's cheek and made a dopey smile. "You're cute, did I ever tell you that? You're so cute I could eat you for breakfast. Spread you riiiight over a pancake," he said, mimicking the act of spreading butter over bread with a knife.

Grissom winked at her.

Sara shook her head 'no' at Grissom then nodded slowly at Catherine. "High as a space shuttle."

Nick and Warrick sprung from their seats and scrambled to Grissom's side so fast they almost hip-knocked Catherine to the floor. Catherine dart the eager boys a ferocious look and then nudged Nick aside to reclaim her earlier position.

With his team fanned around him Grissom simply waved 'hi' to everyone again, his right leg still jerking up and down to a frantic rhythm.

Catherine bit her lower lip as continued to shake her head. "What are you on?" she asked finally.

Grissom shrugged. "A nurse gave me Cheetos at the hospital. She was nice, reminded me of my third grade teacher. _Nothing_ like the Mrs. Fracks on second grade. I did _not_ flushed the class mascot 'Tootie' the turtle down the toilet. It wasn't me, I was _framed_," Grissom finished, nodding his head and stabbing the air with his index finger for extra emphasis.

He frowned. "What was the question again?"

Catherine mouth was –once again- hanging open. Sara and Warrick stifled a bout of giggles.

Nick had his hands on his knees and was studying Grissom like something he'd see splattered on a slide under the microscope. Nick frowned and tried to contain his wicked smile.

An idea had popped into his evil head. "Grissom?"

Grissom looked at him. "Ah-huh?"

"What did you do with Lady Heath---"

Catherine jabbed her elbow on Nick's side at the same time Warrick whacked him in the back of his head.

Grissom squinted, confused. "With who?"

Catherine waved her hand. "No one, Griss, no one. How're you feeling?"

"Happy," Grissom replied. "Ha-pee. . .pee. . ..I think I have to pee."

There was a moment of silence and then, without taking her eyes off Grissom, Sara pointed her hand towards the A/V lab. "Someone go get a camera, _now_!"

No need, in that instant Greg (who'd been surprised by Grissom's excellent mood, dancing with him in the DNA lab minutes earlier) came into the room, staring through the small screen and getting a nice shot of the entire team surrounding Grissom.

Greg saw Sara through the camera, she was smiling. "Greg, you read my mind. Perfect," she said, making an "ok" sign with her fingers and beaming one of her 1000-watt smiles at him.

Suddenly Brass came into the screen.

"Thank God I found you!" Brass said between pants. Greg zoomed out to get an entire shot of the team and Brass.

Grissom stood up (barely) and hugged an unsurprised Brass that simply stood, stiff as an ironing board, as Grissom lifted him up in a mega hug.

"Long time no see, Jimmy!" Grissom said, dropping Brass down in an unceremonious fashion.

Brass rolled his eyes. "Yeah, long time. . .like 20 minutes," Brass muttered.

Greg giggled and did a close up of Brass' I'm-tired-of-this-nut face.

"What happened?" Catherine asked. Greg switched to Catherine's face. "He's doped out of his mind."

"D–o–p–p-e-d," Grissom spelled as he wrapped an arm around Sara again, as a mean of support. Greg did a close up of Sara's astonished face as Grissom winked at her again.

Sara smiled tentatively at him and glanced sideways shyly.

Brass shook his head, still upset by the entire accident. "We are talking to this guy this morning and Mr. Happy here discovers something fishy in the guy's manners. He asks the wrong question and the rat flings a drawer at his head."

Grissom nodded grimly and pointed at his bruised forehead with one finger, tilting his head towards Sara.

"It hurt," he said, looking for a little of Sara's sympathy. Sara played along and looked extremely sorry for him. He took Sara's hand and placed it on his head, near his 'injury'. Sara patted his head and bit her lower lip to contain the laughter.

"Any . . .way," Brass said, making everyone turn their gazes away from Grissom and Sara. "There was an open bag of coke inside the drawer and accidentally, Cheeto-guy snorted a little bit."

Nick turned around to look at Grissom, who had now whisked Sara into an imaginary dancing floor and was spinning her around while she smiled and giggled uncontrollably.

"A _little_ bit?" Nick said.

Grissom was twirling Sara around when he suddenly clasped her waist with both hands to halt the movement and pushed her towards him, their faces winding up inches apart.

Greg zoomed in the camera. Everyone's eyes widened at the sight, there was a collective holding of breaths. . .

Sara cleared her throat and recoiled her head as far as she could without snapping her neck in two. "Errr . . .Griss, what are you doing?"

"I have to pee," he said with a charming smile and Sara burst out laughing.

Brass rolled his eyes. "He's been doing that loopy Romeo technique since the hospital."

Warrick arched an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Dancing, twirling then telling women he has to pee," Brass explained, shaking his head as he spoke, unable to believe his own words.

Catherine coughed and then started to laugh. "Really?"

"_Every_ female nurse he saw, every female doctor. In fact, here," he took something out of his pocket. "Take a look at this."

Warrick grabbed the small card and read. "Karen Hansen, Neurologist." Warrick frowned. "I don't get it."

Brass glanced at Grissom. He was smiling flirtatiously as he whispered something in Sara's ear. She was flushing but listening intently. Suddenly her brown eyes opened wide and she immediately proceeded to swat the dirty entomologist on his arm.

"GRIssom!" she said, mouth open in shock.

Brass shook his head again.

"She said he was the cutest patient she'd ever had and that I should tell him to call her when the effect wore off. You want more? I got like two dozens, he's like a coked-up chick magnet. Lara, Ashley, Barbara, Nicole. . .. The entire freaking alphabet."

Greg came forward and did a close up of the cards. Suddenly he outstretched his arm and picked 'Nicole' then proceeded to stuff the card in his lab coat's pocket.

"Doc said the effect should disappear completely in a few hours. No need to de-tox him. We should have the old Grissom back in no time," Brass informed and then swivelled his head at Greg's camera. "What do you think you're doing with that camera, kid?"

The camera had Brass on a scary close-up.

Greg zoomed out, _fast_.

Greg was speechless. He turned the camera at Grissom and then back at Brass as his answer.

Brass smiled. "Sign me up for a copy, would ya?"

The team turned around, arms folded over their chests.

Grissom was showing Sara his wound again, saying 'It hurt _a lot'_.

Catherine took a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest and spoke to the entire team.

"Well fellas, we have an estimate of two hours. All new toys you want for the Lab, all documents you want Snorty to sign, like extra days off and all embarrassing personal questions you want him to answer, do it now."

**ThE eNd.**


End file.
